


Children Get Older

by luq



Series: Supernatural Shorts and Snapshots [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Implied Destiel (background), dash of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luq/pseuds/luq
Summary: Jack needs a permanent ID, and Dean has a minor crisis.





	Children Get Older

**Author's Note:**

> Proofread only with my standard cursory once-over, so apologies in advance if I missed any glaring mistakes! Please enjoy.

"How old do you want to be?"

Jack looked up from his laptop, and met Dean's eyes with a little frown. "I don't know what you mean."

Dean restrained an eye roll and waved an ID template. "Getting your official set, kid."

"Oh." Jack's frown deepened as he considered the question _._ "How old are you supposed to be, to drink beer?" 

Dean restrained his amusement, but felt the corners of his eyes crinkle anyway. "Twenty-one."

"Oh," said Jack again. "Okay. Twenty-one, then." Dean nodded, and quickly did the math, mind blanking when he realized the kid's fake birthdate would be in the  _late nineties,_ and hell if that didn't somehow feel weirder than the truth.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, and Jack looked back up at him, concerned expression in place. No poker face at all, Dean thought. They'd need to work on that; expressiveness was a liability they couldn't afford.

And wasn't  _that_ a shitty thought, that Jack's open empathy, his compassion, would have to be buried, that he'd need to train himself out of showing it at the surface. In a better world, Dean thought, Jack would-- well, he wouldn't exist at all, really, and the twinge in his gut at that thought reminded him, again, how deep this little family was under his skin, and that wasn't good, nothing good could come of-

"Dean," said Jack, voice disconcertingly firm, and Dean's spiraling thoughts screeched to a halt. "Stop it." And he sounded so much like Cas, in that moment, that Dean heard a hysterical little laugh bubble up from his own throat.

"Sorry," he said, wincing at the crack on the second syllable. He coughed to bring his voice back to its normal pitch. "Sorry," he said again. Jack tilted his head, another Cas-like motion that brought Dean up short, and how long would it take for him to stop being surprised?

"Are you alright?" 

"Fine," said Dean gruffly, and he returned to the forms in front of him. A sigh brought his attention back to Jack, who leveled him with a narrow-eyed expression, so intense that Dean felt suddenly transparent, and  _that_ was all Sam.

"Sam says that 'fine' stands for-" Dean jabbed a finger in Jack's direction, cutting him off.

"Shut it." 

Jack's mouth twitched in a brief smirk, and he jerked his head in a startlingly familiar "whatever you say, dude" motion before returning to whatever he was clicking at on his computer. Dean blinked. Twice.

Okay,  _that_ _?_ That was him, right there. 

"You pick up a lot of shit from us, you know that?" Dean blurted out, and Jack looked up from his screen once again.

"Yes," he said simply. 

"What's up with that?" Jack sighed, and gave his laptop a brief, forlorn glance, before he closed it and faced Dean.

"I read that humans often 'pick up' mannerisms and speech patterns from the people they're closest to. Friends, family.” Jack smiled, kind and quiet. "You're my family, and I'm half-human. Why wouldn't I mirror your behavior?"

And, okay, that? That freaked Dean the hell out.

"That freaks me the hell out," Dean said, and Jack's eyebrows made a valiant jump for his hairline before furrowing low over his eyes.

"Why?"

"I-"

"Would you prefer that I... didn't? Do that?" That stilted, insecure lilt hadn't made an appearance in weeks, and Dean winced.

"No," he said quickly, "No, thats-- not at all." Jack's posture instantly relaxed, and Dean's chest tightened. How could he explain that  _that,_ in itself, was the problem? That a kid like Jack shouldn't be  _anything_ like Dean, because the things that  _made_ a person like him weren't  _good,_ that it was all pain and sacrifice and buried grief? That Dean had grown up living a make-do, do-or-die life, and the foundation to provide emotional support, to be soft, just wasn't  _there_ _?_

Something must have shown on his face-- or, Chuck forbid, Jack had _heard_ it-- because Jack's eyes cleared, and he walk-scooted the wheeled office chair across the floor with a determined expression. Dean couldn't hold back a chuckle, and Jack's eyes brightened at the sound as he came to a stop at his side.

"Hey," he said very seriously, and Dean raised an eyebrow. "You're my family. I chose you to be a part of my family. Same as Cas, and Sam."

Dean huffed a laugh without much humor. "Great choice, kid. Super." Jack stared at him, and there was hurt behind his eyes, but also something powerful and _knowing_  and Dean remembered, suddenly, what Jack  _was._

"I chose you," Jack repeated, a faint reverberating echo on the edges of his voice, "I fought with you. I fought for you. You are my family,  and don't think for a  _second_ that I made that choice lightly." Dean blinked, eyes stinging just slightly, and Jack seemed to settle and solidify at the edges as his temper cooled. "There are... so many things I regret, Dean, but this family isn't one of them," he said quietly, and what could Dean say to all of that?

Jack smiled, eyes kind and understanding. He wrapped his gangly arms around Dean, and squeezed him tight with deceptive strength. Dean sighed and hugged him back, held the kid close for a moment like it could keep him safe, from everything, forever.

"Damn, kid," Dean tried for a laugh, and managed a weak chuckle as they separated. "When did you get so smart?" 

"I'm twenty-one, Dean," Jack said with a solemn expression. "I've been around the block." Dean burst into real laughter, and Jack joined in with a stuttering high giggle, catching in his chest like he wasn't quite sure how to let it out. They'd have to work on it.

Dean watched him fondly, and the ever-present knot in his diaphragm softened by a fraction. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love Jack a whole lot; he's such a wonderful, complex character, and I wanted to explore the influence of his chosen family. 
> 
> If you liked it, let me know! Thank you for stopping by <3


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